


astra inclinant, sed non obligant

by tootsonnewts



Series: exercise your demons [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, M/M, bang ur demons, demon hunk, demon hunters keith and lance, just a whole lotta wild ass demon sex y'all, little bit of soulmates sprinkled in there, shrug emoji, there's a lil daddy kink in here jsyk, you know how I do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-06 05:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13404441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tootsonnewts/pseuds/tootsonnewts
Summary: “I mean, yeah, I’d really fuckin’ like that, because I’m about to pass out,” and Keith is proud of the way he says it so calmly, because he really is. Just straight up swooning to the ground like a damsel in distress. Crumpled like a tin can underfoot of this situation. Here lies Keith Kogane, born on it-really-doesn’t-matter, died right here, right now, at the hands of a fucking otherworldly entity that is absolutely trying to make friends with him.“Hmm, no, I’d definitely like to take you as my lover, Keith.”keith and lance are the stars of a cable demon hunting show. on one of their assignments, things get a little out of keith's hands.





	1. the stars incline us

**Author's Note:**

> well hello again!
> 
> it's been a minute since i've written any smut.  
> this has that in **spades**.  
>  i'll warn you now, we get a lil wild and woolly in this one.
> 
> if you'd like, i'm always available over at [tumblr](http://tootsonnewts.tumblr.com/), i'd love to say hi!  
> enjoy!

Keith adjusts the gopro camera strapped to his chest absently as he steps out of the van.

“Hey, Lance, you got those keys?”

He turns to glance over his shoulder at the other man, hopping out of the driver’s seat and throwing on a camera of his own. When he finishes tightening the harness around his chest, Lance reaches into the center console and tosses the keyset they were given by the kindly older couple they met earlier that day in the town’s only coffee shop.

“Here man,” Lance answers without so much as looking his way. “If you’re going in without me, though, make sure you take a flashlight.”

Keith loops around to the back of the van and pops the door open, rummaging around until he sees their lighting box.

“Yeah, yeah, dude. Don’t even worry about it. I don’t think we’ll find anything, anyway.”

He grabs a heavy duty floodlight and flips the switch, tapping it a couple times against his palm until the batteries inside fit into their connections and the beam momentarily blinds him.

“Either way, it doesn’t hurt to be careful,” Lance admonishes, and _christ_ he’s really starting to sound more and more like Shiro these days. Keith grumbles a little about it as he makes his way up to the huge rusted gate at the entrance of the old manor.

Typically, they’d be doing this job as a three-man crew, but since their show’s gotten so popular since last season, they’re finding themselves spread a little thin while Shiro hunts for another member or two of their crew. So, when they got the email from a couple in the countryside who were just _convinced_ their historical manor was inhabited by a demonic force, Keith and Lance had no choice but to head out on the assignment alone. _Besides,_ Shiro had noted, _it’s not like you guys’ll find anything. We barely ever do in places like that._

Keith scoffs as those words flit through his mind, trying to think of the ways they’ll need to gin up their footage from this one to make for an interesting hour of television. He shoves the key in his hand into the rusted master lock on the gate and pops it open, dropping it and the chain it was looped through to the ground. The sun hasn’t fully set yet, but it’s sunken just enough toward the horizon that the house will be fairly dark inside, so he clicks on his flashlight and makes his way up the drive.

Typically, in these places, the breakers are shut off and it’s up to the boys to go reset them themselves. Keith unlocks the front door and steps into the entry, proverbial fingers crossed as he flips the light switch to see if this one will be the same. The switch flicks up with a satisfying click, and...the foyer stays dark.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Keith whispers into the darkness with immense feeling. He doesn’t get creeped out by much these days, but he’s never particularly liked being the one to go in the basements. It always takes forever to find the breaker box, the fuses are always labeled wrong, and he always comes out with a few more spiders in his shirt than he’d care for. Also, basements are gross. They just are. It’s like some sort of cosmic law that they be dank and foreboding.

Lance is still screwing off with the equipment in the car (he’s always conveniently screwing off with the equipment in the car when it comes to this part), so it’s up to Keith to get the house ready for set-up. He lets out a sigh and makes his way toward where he guesses the kitchen will be. Why the door to the basement is always in the kitchen in these places is beyond him, but whatever. At least he doesn’t have to go outside to get to it.

He eventually does find the kitchen, and sure enough, the door for the basement is inside. He takes a deep breath and creaks open the door, shining his light down the old, wooden staircase. His hand unconsciously curls into a fist at his side until his fingers tingle and and he has to force himself to take the first step over the threshold.

Immediately, something about the basement strikes him as odd. It’s not as cold and damp as it feels like it should be. It’s not warm, by any means, but it’s also not as uninviting as they usually feel. Every groaning step he takes draws him in, almost as though the room is doing its best to keep from frightening him. Which is absolutely ridiculous. Houses don’t feel. Houses don’t anything. They’re houses, not dogs.

Either way, he can’t help but feel a peculiar tug guiding him through the mountains of storage boxes and piles of old furniture, pulling him to stand directly in front of the breaker box. It’s refreshing to be able to easily maneuver through one of these places, at least. He flips open the metal cover, and thanks every god whose name he can conjure, because the fuses are all properly and clearly labeled. He flips the switch for house lighting, and just like that, everything is illuminated.

He squints into the sudden brightness flooding the basement, lit up by way more fluorescent bulbs than he was prepared for, and clicks his flashlight off. Turning away from the panel, Keith sweeps his eyes around the room to check for any potential hiding places. At the very least, he can get this room cleared of any pre-set tricks the owners may have set up in order to fool them.

He wanders a little deeper through the basement, but the walls are perfectly smooth, if not a little aged, and he turns up nothing. Still, he can’t help but feel a little peculiar down here. Almost like he’s being watched by something. There were no cameras or speakers, though. He shakes the thought from his head. There’s a reason he hates being the basement guy.

Dust rains down over his head as heavy footsteps clomp around upstairs.

“Keith? Bro? You good?” Lance calls down the staircase from the kitchen. So kind of him to finally join the party.

“Yeah, man, I’m on my way back up,” Keith shouts back, wiping the prickliness from the back of his neck and glancing around one last time before hiking the stairs back up and shutting the basement door with a decisive click. Lance is leaning on the kitchen island, an array of cameras, infrared sensors, microphones, and other equipment spread out before him.

“Basement good?” he asks, fiddling with a brand new EMF meter the network sent them a week ago.

“Yeah, it’s clear,” Keith answers. “But if you want shit down there, you’re setting it up yourself.”

“Weeeaaaakkk,” Lance groans at Keith, the hint of a smile on his face. He knows how much Keith hates basement duty. He just can’t help himself when he has a chance to rub the weakness in Keith’s face.

“Yeah, well, we all have our strengths.” Keith scoops up a few cases of the cameras from the counter and throws some extension cords over his shoulder. “I’m gonna get started upstairs.”

“Alright. Be careful or whatever.”

“Your concern is touching,” Keith deadpans, clutching his chest with his free hand and walking backward toward the staircase in the foyer. “I’m humbled. Truly.”

Lance cackles at his back when he turns to make his way up the stairs.

The couple who own the manor, the Hudgens’, gave them a brief description of the place, but soundly refused when Lance and Keith had asked them for a walkthrough. Apparently, whatever goes on here is enough to frighten them fully away until it’s dealt with. He didn’t think of it until now, but Keith knows a guy who does spiritual cleansing rituals, and he begins to wonder if he should have called him up, just to give the couple peace of mind.

His feet still on the landing just at the top of the stairs, and the thought immediately empties from his mind, because that _feeling_ is back again. The ‘I’m-being-watched-and-my-neck-burns-with-it-what-the-fuck-is-going-on’ feeling. He’s only ever gotten that feeling in a place they’ve investigated twice, and both of those places were ones that truly seemed to have something going on. The difference is that he wasn’t the only one to feel the sensation. Lance hasn’t said anything since they’d arrived.

Keith sucks in a deep breath and swivels his head around, taking stock of the landing and noting the doorways and windows lining the hall. In total, there are six rooms upstairs, four bedrooms, a bathroom, and a parlor. The parlor, the owners explained, was the more relaxed space where the family would hang out away from visiting eyes. Something like a den, rather than a sitting room. There, according to Mrs. Hudgens, was where things always seemed to happen. With this in mind, Keith decides to save at least three of the cameras in his arms to set up inside.

First, however, he needs to handle the rest of the floor. He starts by unfurling one of the extension cords and running it along the baseboard of the hallway. The best footage usually comes from hallway shots, so he plants a motion camera up in one corner and an infrared up in another at the very end of the hallway. As he stands on tiptoes to tape the power cord to the wall, he feels something brush along the nape of his neck, just the lightest tickling brush. It makes his hair stand on end and he nearly falls to the floor, bracing himself on the wall and wiping his hand along where he felt the sensation.

_Okay, this is totally fine. It was just your hair, you dumbass. Lance said you needed a haircut, and you didn’t listen, and now you’re here panicking for no good goddamn reason. Dumbass._

He turns on a heel and marches away, setting cameras up in each of the bedrooms. Still, he can’t quite let the feeling go. It’s still there, the phantom feeling of a voyeur creeping just out of sight. Just before he goes to set up the parlor, he realizes (with great relief he’ll never admit) that he’s out of extension cords.

Keith charges back downstairs toward the kitchen with a little more urgency than the situation maybe necessitates, but he refuses to be embarrassed about it. His instincts have never led him wrong, and they’re shouting in his ear now. He skids back up to the island, where Lance is still propped up, playing with a voice recorder now. Keith comes to rest across from him, hands white-knuckling the edge of the butcher block counter. The sound of his boots kicking the cabinets rouses Lance’s attention, looking up into Keith’s face and squinting at whatever it is he finds there.

“Keith? You alright buddy? You’re looking a little pale.” His eyebrows scrunch up in concern and he sets the recorder aside when Keith doesn’t answer him immediately. “Seriously, man. You good?”

Keith wipes his hand down his face. “Yeah, I’m good. It’s just-do, uh. Have you felt anything...weird...here?”

Lance squints down at him, suspicion coloring his face. “What do you mean weird?”

“Okay,” Keith sighs, “You know how we’ve run into stuff before and it’s just. You know, it’s just felt weird before things happened?”

“...Yeah.”

“I’ve been getting those feelings here. Nothing crazy, nothing’s _happened_ , but like, I feel it? Please tell me it’s not just me. Please tell me it’s you, too.”

“Sorry buddy,” Lance says, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder, “I haven’t felt shit here. Maybe you’re finally cracking.”

Keith huffs through his nose, but smiles a little when Lance squeezes and laughs a little bit. “I’m just kidding, man. But if you’re feeling like that, maybe we just be careful for a while tonight. You wanna stick together for the start?”

Keith breathes in and parses over his current mental state. Downstairs, in the relative warmth of the kitchen, bathed in the light of fluorescent bulbs, he can refocus and get his wits back together. He sighs and shakes his shoulder, letting Lance know he can have his hand back.

“Nah, I’m okay. Maybe it was just me getting a little too into my head today. I didn’t sleep that great last night, so.”

Lance smirks. “Like that’s new. Well, if you’re sure.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith confirms, scooping up the cords he actually came for. “I got it. I’m good.”

“Alright, dude. I’m gonna get the stuff set up down here, go finish your shit, homie!”

Keith laughs and grunts an affirmative, heading back up to the parlor. When he reaches the door, he sets his hand against it for a second.

“Alright, Keith. You got this. There’s nothing here. You’re being ridiculous. Just go in. Just go inside.”

So he does. Before he lets himself think about it, he shoves open the door and strides in, carrying the case of cameras with him. His gaze is trailed on the floor while he struggles with the case and cords in his arms, getting tripped up on the door frame and stumbling around like a baby deer for a second before he gets his bearings straight. Again, the atmosphere in here is strangely charged, just like in the basement.

When he finally looks up and around, he doesn’t really see anything unusual. Some older, victorian style furniture, lots of florals, a wall of floor to ceiling bookshelves. Every shelf is stuffed to the brim with large, leather-bound tomes. Each shelf but one. On the middle shelf in the very center bookcase stands a single glass cloche. When he approaches, Keith realizes that it covers a small jewelry stand with nothing but a delicate gold chain with a locket dangling from it. Something about the item draws his attention. It’s pretty to be sure, but there’s something else, a magnetic quality he can’t quite put his finger on.

Shaking his head, he returns to the task at hand, placing cameras and cords at varying angles around the edges of the room, one aimed at the door, one aimed at the center, and one aimed at the bookshelves, the mysterious necklace framed dead center. He steps back, hands on hips, surveying his work and ensuring he’s happy with the camera placement. He turns toward the window, checking how dark it is outside, and as he does, he shuffles his feet back a little bit more, backing toward the entry to the room until his back hits a solid surface. That’s weird. He’s still in the center of the room. There wasn’t anything there, last he checked. Suddenly, it dawns on him.

There was nothing in the center of the room.

Nothing.

Not a table, not an ottoman, nothing.

Additionally, the solid surface is moving. It’s lightly pushing into his back and retracting. Steady, fluid motion. In and out.

It’s _breathing._

Keith slams his eyelids closed, scrunching his face up and pulling in raspy breaths. Every instance of uneasiness from earlier in the evening rushes through his mind; the feelings of being watched, the unusual atmosphere, the tingling at the back of his neck. He balls his hands into fists at his sides, steels himself, and gives his body approximately five seconds to flood with fight or flight response. Finally, he re-opens his eyes and plants his foot to spin himself around.

“Wait!” a deep voice pleads. It’s not an unpleasant voice, really, but it’s not a voice he knows. It’s very much not a voice he knows. It’s also, he notices, a voice that reaches his from a fair distance above his head. Whoever this is, they’re bigger than him by an uncomfortable degree, and he’s all alone in a closed room with them. With no defense. He forgot his knife back in the van on his way in. His fists tighten at his sides.

He could call out to Lance, but by the time his partner could do anything meaningful, Keith could already be dead. Keith’s body goes cold. He could die here. He could _die_ . He’s not ready to die. He doesn’t want to die. He _can’t_.

“Woah, there. You’re not going to die here, trust me, little one.”

Little one? What the fuck?

“Okay, that is a fair point, perhaps I should not call you little one. You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been a while since I’ve experienced proper interaction, so I might have trouble choosing my words.”

Gathering his courage, Keith finally opens his dumb mouth. “What the fuck.”

“I’m sorry?” asks the voice, still behind him.

“Who the fuck are you? Why are you here? Why are you talking like fuckin’ Mr. Darcy or some shit?!” Keith demands, finally spinning around to face the intruder. He comes face-to-incredibly-broad-chest with the man, and takes a guarded step back. His eyes slowly drift upward until he sees his face, gasping in shock and fright.

He’s no man.

He’s...no man.

His skin is a sickly, concrete gray, eyes and lips a slick, oily black. His nose is wide with fluttering nostrils, his eyes topped with thick, expressive brows. These are not the sticking point, however. The sticking point is his head. A mess of soft looking, black hair sits atop his crown, and from beneath that mop emerges two horns. They’re large and curled, like a ram’s horns, but a vibrant, heart-stopping red. They’re foreboding and impressive, warning and mysterious. If Keith weren’t partially made of steel, he might shit his pants.

His eyes water, glued to the bony protrusions until a throat clearing draws his attention back down to the monster’s face, awkwardly smiling down at him.

“I apologize. I wanted to introduce myself to you better than this, but circumstances being as they are, I assumed there would be no good time.”

The creature shuffles on his feet a little bit, almost nervously, which is honestly the most ridiculous thing Keith’s ever seen. He sweeps a critical gaze over the...thing. He’s gigantic, just as Keith had earlier assumed. Easily seven feet tall, broad as a fucking redwood, standing atop thick legs (there are no hooves in sight, so thank fuck, because if there were, Keith would _absolutely_ pass out), his arms protectively crossed over his chest. One of his biceps is easily the size of both of Keith’s legs pressed together and that’s...wow that’s something.

Keith skates his eyes back up to the being’s face, and he swallows at the intense gaze he finds there.

“What are you?” he croaks

The creature smirks. “Technically? I’m an Ifrit. Your kind would call me a demon, I believe.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why are any of us here, Keith?”

Keith’s heart drops straight into his ass.

“H-how do you know my name?”

“Really? I read your mind earlier and you know I’ve been trailing you since your arrival, and you do not understand how I could possibly know your name, Keith Kogane?” The demon’s voice drops an octave as he purrs out Keith’s name, and his spine crawls with sparks. Oh god. Oh no. Please no. This isn’t okay. This isn’t fair.

“This is perfectly fair, Keith. You’re the one I’ve chosen to speak with, after all. I find you, in particular, quite fascinating.”

“Fascinating,” Keith deadpans. Whatever’s going on here, the demon has had plenty of time to murder the entire fuck out of Keith, so he feels a little more comfortable dropping back into himself.

“Yes,” affirms the demon, stepping forward into Keith’s space reaching out to settle a hand on his shoulder. Keith drops his focus down to it - long, thick fingers capped in sharp nails, curling around him like a ragdoll. Every part of him is so big. He reeks of potential destruction. Of untapped havoc. What do you even say to something like that? How do you just have a conversation with that? _Hello, sir? Mr. Demon, sir? Could you pretty please leave this house and stop terrifying the really very lovely couple that owns it? Thank you so much._

“I would very much like for you to say pretty please, actually. But please, call me Hunk. Mr. Demon is my father.”

Keith stops breathing. Right. Mind reading. That’s not disturbing at all. The demon-

“Hunk.”

Ugh, Hunk reaches his other hand out, laying on Keith’s unoccupied shoulder. God, he’s so big. It’s intimidating as hell, and he can only imagine what it’ll look like when he replays the feed of this encounter. If he even makes it out of here alive.

“Oh, Keith. Sweet child. There won’t be footage of this. Only you can see me at present. And please, don’t think so lowly of me. Of course you’ll be leaving here alive. Although, perhaps not alone, if you might indulge me.”

“What?!” Keith demands. What, entirely, he’s demanding, even he isn’t completely sure, but he sure as hell demands the _fuck_ out of it. The demon’s face softens, his eyes pinching up just a bit.

“Alright, if I could just…? Could I do something, please? To explain myself? To help you understand?”

“I mean, yeah, I’d really fuckin’ like that, because I’m about to pass out,” and Keith is proud of the way he says it so calmly, because he really is. Just straight up swooning to the ground like a damsel in distress. Crumpled like a tin can underfoot of this situation. Here lies Keith Kogane, born on it-really-doesn’t-matter, died right here, right now, at the hands of a fucking otherworldly entity that is absolutely trying to make friends with him.

“Hmm, no, I’d definitely like to take you as my lover, Keith.”

What the fuck.

“What the fuck.”

The demon leans down, looking Keith directly in the eye, eyebrows scrunched in concentration.

“I’m enjoying the internal monologue, please believe that I am, but I truly do need you to be silent for just a moment if I’m going to do this properly, Keith.”

His clawed hands slide up, resting on the sides of his neck. He breathes out into Keith’s face and slides his eyes closed. He looks much less intimidating that way. Okay, yes, he’s still massive, and clawed, and horned, and very, _very_ grey, but with his eyes closed he looks softer. Less sharp, more vulnerable. It’s not altogether unpleasant. Hunk’s eyes pop back open, sending Keith an amused look.

“Well, thanks, buddy. ‘Preciate it.”

Keith whips his head back at the change in the demon.

“What? Why aren’t you full-on Charles Dickens-ing anymore?”

“Well, like I said,” Hunk answers a little awkwardly, hand reaching to rub at the back of his neck, “it’s been a while since I’ve properly interacted with anyone. I want to make this better for you.”

“Better for me? Dude, you’re a literal demon.”

Hunk sighs. “Yes, I’m aware, but still. It’s not every day that your intended strolls through your front door, ya know? I gotta do what I can.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘your intended?!’” Keith chokes out. “What the fuck does that mean?!”

“Okay, so like, don’t freak out or anything, but you’re definitely my intended.”

Keith’s jaw drops open. “I don’t know that I like the sound of that.”

“You don’t have to,” Hunk replies calmly, “but it doesn’t change the fact that you are.”

“And what, may I ask, does it mean, exactly?”

“Okay, well, cliffsnotes version: each Ifrit has an assigned intended. We’re sort of doomed to wander alone until we meet that intended. Our relationship with that intended can vary, be it friendship, an advisory sort of position, or a full relationship. It just depends on the Ifrit and the intended involved.”

“Cool cool cool, what the fuck are you saying.” Keith is full on panicking now. His eyes slide to the door, but Hunk is blocking his path, and he knows he could never get past if the demon chose to stop him.

“Keith, please. I would never hold you against your will. I physically couldn’t,” Hunk says carefully, his voice turning honey-sweet and syrupy. “An Ifrit can’t harm their intended. Besides, you’re sort of my dream, so I definitely couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I’m _what_?” Keith asks, incredulous. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s stepped forward, chest-to-navel with Hunk. Hunk absentmindedly drops a hand to squeeze Keith’s bicep, a practiced movement, as if they’ve always engaged in this kind of contact and there’s nothing at all to it.

“Look, I know I’m a demon, but I’m also a _man_ . And for fuck’s sake, Keith, I have _eyes_! Just look at you.”

His eyes turn sharp and serious, gazing down at Keith with intention. He shivers under their weight, and if there weren’t a cord of pure tension keeping him upright, his knees would buckle straight out from beneath him. It’s weird, though, because Hunk’s words make _sense_ somewhere in a small part of his mind. Like all of this insane bullshit that’s being spouted to him by an actual hell-demon make perfect sense. Like a little part of him has been missing forever and Hunk points out the little piece just waiting to slot itself back in. He shakes his head. That’s insane.

“Maybe,” Hunk agrees out loud, “but it doesn’t change the truth. You were made for me and me for you. It’s not very romantic, I’ll admit, but it is what it is, ya know? But you’ve felt it. I can see you, Keith. I’ve heard it inside you. The pull, the draw. You think I’m handsome, too.”

Keith snorts.

“This is fucking insane,” he mumbles to himself.

“Well, I’ll give you that much.”

They stare each other down for a second, considering the situation. If he’s totally honest (and he never isn’t), Keith knows Hunk is telling the truth. All day he’s felt it. The ghost of something around him and only him. The fact that he maybe should have been way more wary of Hunk for way longer than he was. The fact that he let the demon touch him in any sense without immediately flinching away or trying to hide. The fact he found Hunk’s appearance _pleasant_ in any fashion.

It also sort of slots a few other things into place for him. He’s always liked big guys. He’s always liked excessively strong guys. He’s never _totally_ fit with them, though. There’s always been something just a little bit off. Nothing wrong, per se, just nothing quite _right_. Crazier shit has happened in the world, he supposes, and look, if he were ever gonna go, being under a big-ass demon might not totally be the worst-

_What the fuck. What the entire actual literal fuck._

There’s no way he’s entertaining this. There’s just no way. He slams his eyes closed and presses his fingers to his temples. What is happening? What is he doing?

“Hate to say it buddy, but you’re doing what you were sort of made to do. Look, I don’t expect anything out of you, for real. I would never force you into anything. I may be an actual demon, but I’m no asshole. I’m just happy to have finally found you.”

Hunk reaches out a hand, slipping it across Keith’s front to rest over his heart. A warmth burns in him, scorching through his chest and tearing up his brainstem. His mind reels with it, a brightness bursting behind his eyelids. It feels good. It feels _really_ good. Like a welcoming. Like a coming home. Like-

“Okay,” Keith grunts, “okay, is this some soulmates bullshit, because I really can’t handle that.”

“Ehhh,” Hunk wavers. “Intended, soulmates. Potato, potahto.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” once more, with feeling.

“Yeah I know, but come on. It could be worse. We could be awful people.”

“I could be, you mean. I could be awful people.”

“Yeah, yeah, demon and all that. Just sayin’. You could get the short stick with me.”

Keith raises an eyebrow.

“But like,” Hunk continues, a mischievous gleam to his jet-black eyes, “you definitely aren’t.”

“Oh my god,” Keith wheezes just as the door to the parlor bursts open.

“Keith?!” Lance shouts. “Dude, are you okay?!”

Keith looks up at Lance, standing in the entry of the suddenly empty parlor.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Dude, I’ve been calling you for twenty minutes! What the fuck are you doing?’

_Twenty minutes?! What the absolute fuck._

_“Uhhh, my bad,” Hunk intones in Keith’s head. “I got a little carried away with you, and maybe I might have sort of...dampened the room a little bit.”_

_What the fuck._

_“Yeah, I’m sorry.”_

“Um, I’m sorry man,” Keith scrapes together an excuse as best as he can. “I must have just gotten really into what I was doing.”

“I’ll fuckin’ say. Look, just wrap it up in here and meet me in the entry to record the opener.”

“Got it. Sorry again, Lance. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Lance pauses at the door and turns back to him with caution written into his face.

“I know. I just kind of freaked. Especially with how you were feeling earlier. I thought you had like, run into a demon or something up here.” Lance bubbles up with manic laughter.

“Yeah, uh, that would be nuts, right?” Keith asks, awkwardly chuckling back. “Just like...some real wild shit, huh?”

He winces at himself for how lame it sounds, but it’s too late now. Lance falters a bit, like he wants to say something, but decides against it. “See you downstairs, Keith.”

The door closes with a light click and Keith heaves a sigh.

“Okay, so what are we gonna do about you?”

“I guess I’ll need to show myself to your friend. After that, it’s up to you, really. I’ll accept whatever choice you make.”

“Either way, I have a show to make, and there’s a nice couple that want you out of this house.”

“Fair enough. Should I go downstairs with you?”

“Yeah, I think that would be best.”

“Cool,” Hunk smiles. “Let’s do this.”

They head downstairs together, and while they walk, Keith does his best to scrape together a plan in his head. _Hey Lance, I gotta tell you something. Turns out I have some sort of otherworldly soulmate...demon...thing, and it’s possessing this house and it wants to come home with me, and I sorta wanna let it. You chill with that? Great, me too._

“That seems a little on the nose, but if that’s what you wanna say,” Hunk whispers.

“Look, just...stay on the landing for a second. Let me ease him into this.”

“Ease me into what?” Lance asks from behind him. “Ease me into that giant horned-ass satan demon you’ve been talking to for a smooth half hour?”

If Keith’s heart dropped to his ass before, it leaks right through his asshole now. He goes cold and shuddery, and all that damsel in distress bullshit from earlier suddenly makes sense, because fainting sounds _great_ right about now.

“Please,” Hunk says, holding out a giant hand, “just call me Hunk.”

Lance takes his hand, shaking it vigorously.

“Sure thing, Hunk. What do you want with our mullet-boy here, anyway? Why couldn’t I be the one to see our first real demon?! It’s kind of unfair.”

“Well, since he’s my intended and not you, I would say it’s only fair. Besides, you’ve already met your mate, have you not?”

Lance’s cheeks go pink and _ah_ , Keith didn’t realize he and Allura had gotten so close recently. He’ll have to ask about that. But first,

“Lance, how in the holy fuck are you being so calm about this?”

Lance spins on Keith, jabbing an accusatory finger in his chest.

“Because I _know_ you, man! You’ve always been a little weird. I mean, shit, you and Shiro didn’t work out, of all people! _Shiro, Keith!_ I figured if that didn’t stick for you, then it would take something supernatural. So yeah, this is hardly the worst thing I could’ve imagined.”

“Well, what the fuck,” Keith grumbles. Suddenly, he doubts everything he thought he knew about himself.

“But that’s not the point here,” Lance continues, holding up a hand. “The point is we need to figure out what to do about this in a way that _won’t_ make Shiro tear us both ass from elbow.”

”You know, uh. You know I can possess other stuff, too, right?” Hunk says, picking at a thread on his shirt. Lance and Keith both spin around to face him, but he’s only looking at Keith. His gaze is focused and serious, if not a little fond.

”What’s your preferred element, like, rocks and shit? Something metallic?” Keith asks. He knows about demons. He knows what they can do. He doesn’t need anyone to point it out to him. He just needs to know what it’ll take to get Hunk out of here.

”OR LIKE A VIBRATOR?!” Lance squeals in cruel delight.

”Oh my gosh, no! Just, like, whatever you’d wanna put me in,” Hunk answers, cheeks blushing a soft black. “...Unless you’d be into that.”

He looks up through thick, glossy lashes to make eye contact with Keith and only Keith. Keith’s spine melts into a puddle in his lower back.

”That could be into _him_ ,” Lance says under his breath.

”LANCE.”

“I have a more...presentable form, too, if you’d prefer,” Hunk continues, ignoring Lance’s comment. “It’s pretty much human. That tends to make people a little comfier around me.”

“Comfier,” Keith repeats dumbly.

“Yeah,” Hunk confirms. “But what I mean is, like, okay. You guys wanna get me out of here. Mr. and Mrs. Hudgens _definitely_ wanna get me out of here. I’d honestly really, really like to get me out of here. And I wouldn’t mind entirely if I got out of here with you.”

When Hunk finishes the sentence, he steps forward, straightening to his full height and placing the tips of his fingers to Keith’s chin. He’s so big. He’s so tall and broad and _huge_. He could easily take anything he wanted from Keith and Keith wouldn’t be able to do much about it. It’s unbearably right up Keith’s alley. Keith’s breath stutters in his chest and his cheeks flush hot. No. Absolutely not. There is no way in hell he can be thrown off by a literal demon. There is just no way. He won’t allow it.

“Whether it’s with me or not, we gotta get you out of here, man. That poor old couple is terrified of you,” he says, tamping the thoughts down in his head.

Hunk withdraws his hand, looking abashed.

“Dude, I know,” he groans out, “I’m not trying to scare them, I promise!”

Keith quirks an eyebrow at him. “You’re a literal demon.”

“I know what I am! We’re not all spooky noises and scratches on your legs and breaking mirrors, you know? Some of us didn’t ask for this!” He throws clawed hands in the air, and Keith makes a point to stare hard at his fingers. Hunk notices his focus and sighs. “Look, I know how it looks, but it’s not like that. You think I wanna be doing this? I’m only here because the central office needed coverage in this sector. These folks actually seem pretty nice.”

“Central office?” Lance butts back in. “So what? You guys have a governing body?!”

“Of course we do,” Hunk says, slightly annoyed. “Someone has to organize who goes where. Although like I said, if you wanted to, oh I dunno, trap me in something long enough to get me out of here, then _you_ could direct where I go from here, and central would have no jurisdiction.”

His black eyes wander back over Keith’s frame, and Keith has to do his level best not to shudder at the attention. It’s really fucked up, he thinks, that the universe would send his ideal man in the form of a not-at-all-man. Just, really not cool. Unfair to a gross degree. Still-

“And what do you do when we remove you? Do you just stay in whatever we put you in?”

Keith really needs clarification. He needs clarification with the kind of swiftness only seen in light or cheetahs or something else really fast that Keith suddenly can’t think of.

“Well, I’m tied to this house right now, so I can’t leave the walls. But if you were to, say, tie me to a necklace or something, perhaps a locket? Since I can’t _fit_ in it for long without getting cramped, I would just need to be in proximity of it.”

Hunk edges forward a few steps closer to Keith. Keith slides his eyes over to Lance, who’s currently wearing the hugest shit-eating grin Keith has ever seen in his entire life. And Keith has known Lance for very nearly his entire life. They grew up together. That’s a lot of shit-eating grins. Clawed fingertips scratch gently below Keith’s chin again, directing his attention back to the hulking form of the demon in the room.

“And like I said,” Hunk continues, looming large over Keith, “I _do_ have a more human form. It’s much easier on mortal eyes.”

“You’re just fine on my eyes right now,” Keith blurts out before he can stop himself.

Hunk smiles at him, eyes dropping to his lips. Lance rips a painful sounding snort. Keith stops moving entirely.

“I gotta go call Shiro right now,” Lance announces around laughter. “I have to call him right. Fucking. Now.”

He whips his cell phone from his pocket and tears out of the front door of the house, leaving Keith helplessly behind to deal with his dumbass mouth and the demon staring fire down into it. He looks up into Hunk’s glassy eyes and tries his best to control the shivers he can feel trying to claw through his spine. From outside, Keith can hear Lance shouting into the phone at Shiro.

“Permission for Keith to let a demon come aboard, Captain!”

Keith’s brow furrows in humiliation. Hunk’s face morphs into a knife-sharp smile.

“This is selfish of me, I know. But you’re very pretty and I want you very much. He’ll be outside for a while, don’t ask how I know.” The front door slams closed and Keith hears the lock click in the latch. Well, there’s how Hunk knows, at least. In an instant, the easy air of California cool melts away, and Hunk fully embodies the otherworldly nature of what he truly is. His fingers stray from Keith’s chin and skate up his jawline until a huge hand gently cradles his cheek. “I’d like to show you something.”

Without warning, Keith’s head fills with images.

_Keith is pinned up against the front door of his apartment, a big, broad man holds his hands against the door’s surface above his head, wrists crossed beneath one large palm. The man is tall, tan, and glowing with the kind of complexion that only the sun can give a person. He smiles down at Keith, and it’s blinding, like staring at the sun. He radiates joy and warmth and easy acceptance. He pulses with love. The man leans forward, brushing his smile into Keith’s neck, pressing sweet kisses up the smooth, marble pillar._

_“It’s still me, Keith.”_

_A warm tongue glides over his pulse and he sighs a shaky little breath._

_“Hunk?”_

_“Told you. Easier on the eyes.”_

_Hunk nips at his skin. Keith hums into his shoulder, wrists tugging a little at the firm grip around them. Hunk slips his free hand up under Keith’s shirt, skating thick, warm fingers over his ribs. God, he’s so warm. He’s so warm and beautiful._

_“Behave, Keith,” he says, skating a thumb over his nipple. Keith hisses and presses his eyes closed._

_When he reopens them, they’re somewhere new. Somewhere he’s never seen before. He’s straddled across Hunk’s lap, Hunk’s hands dipped below the waistline of his pants, palming two thick handfuls of ass. They’re seated on a plush, white couch, all overstuffed and dripping in pillows and furry blankets. It’s decadent in a way that Keith has never seen, like he’s been plunged straight into the pages of some luxury home decorating magazine. Hunk squeezes at him again, hips bucking up lightly to get his attention. Keith groans and rolls his neck around, focusing back in on the man below him._

_“We’re in the home I keep when I’m not on assignment.”_

_“This is-” Keith chokes on a gasp as Hunk presses down on his waist, rolling their hips together- “This is your place?”_

_“Hmmm,” Hunk hums, pressing his mouth to Keith’s throat again, “Ours, if you wish.”_

_Keith drapes his arms over Hunk’s shoulders, playing with the mop of brunette hair he now has, all tied back with an orange headband around his head. Hunk noses up under Keith’s chin, kissing sloppily across his Adam’s apple, nipping at his skin. The action goes straight to Keith’s groin, sending him all hot and trembling._

_“Not permanently, of course, but it would belong to you all the same. Like a sort of vacation home.”_

_He rolls his hips again, pressing their straining erections together, and Keith gasps out, unable to fight the lust pulsing through his veins._

_“You can always say no to me, Keith. But I’d really like it if you said yes.”_

_Keith squeezes his eyes closed again. If he was going to say no, he would have done it by now, quite honestly. He’s enjoying himself and Hunk is really easy on the eyes. There’s really no problem that he can see._

_“Then yes.”_

_Hunk smiles into his skin and lays him back. Keith’s back doesn’t land on cushions and furs, though. He slides around a bit as he falls against the cool slipperiness of silken sheets. He re-opens his eyes, and before him is Hunk, in his Ifrit form and bent at the waist, hovering over Keith, admiring. Hunk slowly reaches a clawed hand out to run the backs of long fingers over Keith’s sharp cheekbone._

_“I would very much like for you to see me in my most natural state if I’m going to see you in yours.”_

_Keith gulps in a breath, Hunk’s fingers tracing sparks along the planes of his face, and nods._

_“Yeah. Yeah that’s fair,” he rasps, and Hunk laughs a smoky chuckle._

_“First things first, then,” Hunk says, reaching down toward Keith’s waist. “We gotta get this off.”_

_In one smooth motion, he tugs Keith’s shirt up and off, pressing him down into the buttery linens, fingers skating down his sides. Hunk’s eyes glaze over a little bit, a forked tongue dipping out of his mouth to lick at darkened lips. If he had pupils, Keith thinks this is the part where they blow out._

_“Beautiful,” Hunk whispers, dipping a thumb into Keith’s navel. It shouldn’t turn him on like this, but the rough pad of finger and the scratch of clawed fingernail bordering on just the right edge of too sharp overwhelms his senses with desire for more of that almost-pain, more of that too-much. He reaches out to grasp at the fabric stretched taut across Hunk’s broad chest._

_“You too,” Keith mutters, tugging on the shirt. “It’s only fair.”_

_Hunk shoots him another heart-stopping smile. It’s different in this form, a little sharper, a little more knowing, a little more mischievous, but it’s no less beautiful._

_“It’s only fair,” he agrees, tearing the shirt up and over his horned head. The horns are different here. They glisten in the dim lamplight of the room, like they’ve been oiled to gleaming. Keith desperately wants to touch them. Hunk bends back down, sliding his palms across Keith’s skin once more._

_“You can touch them if you want, but this will end much more quickly if you do. They’re...sensitive.”_

_Keith’s vision blurs out at the implication._

_“What else?”_

_“What else what, Keith?” Hunk asks as if he already knows what Keith means._

_“What else is sensitive for you?” Keith clarifies anyway._

_“Hmmm, well,” Hunk considers, playing his thumbs over Keith’s nipples. Keith gasps again, and Hunk smirks. “I can’t say the nipples do it for me.”_

_He tweaks one between thumb and forefinger and Keith slightly arches his back into it, groaning into the space between them._

_“I do very much like watching your reactions to this, though.”_

_“That-ah!-that doesn’t answer my question,” Keith answers, fighting the distraction. “I asked about touching you.”_

_“Technically,” Hunk begins, bending over to lick the nipple he’s been toying with. Keith wants to cry, it’s so good. “Technically, you did not. You asked what was sensitive for me.”_

_Hunk’s mouth closes around Keith’s nipple and he sucks. Keith releases the moan he’d been choking down since Hunk first started toying with his chest and flops back on the downy mattress._

_“Please, Hunk.”_

_Satisfied, Hunk releases his mouth and props up on an elbow over Keith._

_“Please what, darling?” he asks, a smile light on his lips. Keith lays still for a minute, letting his breath even back out._

_“Answer my damn question.”_

_Hunk laughs, full and delighted, and sits back on his haunches, scooping Keith up and into his lap._

_“Perhaps it’s best if I just show you.”_

_Hunk sets his mouth to the nipple he’d previously neglected and Keith moans again, a strangled whining sound. Hunk wraps Keith’s legs around his waist, steadying him in place while he unzips Keith’s jeans. Keith whines. He wants Hunk to answer his fucking question, he wants Hunk to keep his mouth on his body, he wants Hunk to tear him apart, he_ **_wants_** _._

_“And you’ll get. But it’s easier to explain this way. Just trust me.”_

_And it’s funny, because Keith just met this guy, but he does. He’s trusts him implicitly. He feels deep in his soul that nothing wrong could ever happen while in this Ifrit’s arms._

_“That’s kind, Keith,” Hunk says, low and adoring. “I feel the same about you.”_

_With that, Hunk lays Keith back again and tugs off his jeans. He tosses them off the side of the bed and returns his attention to Keith. He hadn’t noticed, because it turns out Hunk’s mouth is a huge distraction, but Hunk’s chest is heaving. His clawed hands shake as they draw patterns up Keith’s thighs. Keith shivers at the sensation, his chest going tight as he watches Hunk drag hands across his lower body._

_“Your skin is so beautiful, Keith. Your muscles are so powerful. You’re so clean.”_

_Hunk bends down and licks a stripe from Keith’s knee, up his inner thigh, across the bulging hardness in his boxer-briefs, and down the other thigh, Keith moaning as the hot breath fans out across his skin._

_“You’re so creamy and sweet, Keith.”_

_Hunk stands up at the end of the bed, unzipping his own pants and lowering them slowly to the floor. He’s not wearing underwear. Keith groans and closes his eyes before reopening them to take it all in, and when his eyes open, they’re somewhere new again. He chuckles and briefly wonders if he’ll end up with a tumor or something from all the space-time action going on._

_“You won’t. Trust me.”_

_Keith surveys the room, they’re in some sort of beach shack, that much is clear. The walls are grassy straw, he can hear the ocean outside, there are bits of sand scattered across the floor._

_“This is my hiding place. There are no other living souls for miles. I like the water. Which is humorous, considering.”_

_“Considering what?” Keith asks, still not refocusing on Hunk._

_“Ifrit? Fire demon?”_

_Keith looks back at his face. He never put it together. Which is hilarious for a professional demon hunter. He smiles and snorts._

_“Most unconventional, Hunk.”_

_“Indeed,” he agrees, smiling down at Keith. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, albeit a totally different bed in a totally different corner of the world, Keith suspects. With that, he can’t help but trail his sight down Hunk’s massive body. He’s tall and proud before him, unashamed and fully on display. He looks across a hard marble chest, down arms and legs with various scars scattered about and back up to the center of his body. Keith sucks in a massive breath when his vision lands on Hunk’s groin._

_It’s not what he expected, but it’s also entirely what he expected._

_Demon dick._

_He giggles, and Hunk gives him an exasperated look at his childishness._

_“Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help it.”_

_“Yes, well. Back to the conversation at hand,” Hunk brushes it off. And yes, they should get back to the conversation at hand. They should get back to the demon dick that Keith very much wants to get at hand. He wants to inspect it, to explore it._

_It’s not at all human, but it’s still close enough that Keith gets the gist. It’s large, to be sure, but the shape is just to the left of what he’s used to, the texture just off. The head is more sharply tapered than a human’s would be, coming to much more of a point. Below that, it’s ribbed down to about midshaft, where the texture changes and becomes more noduled, bumpier. At the base, he’s a little surprised, is the usual hair you would find on anyone else, but it’s lusher, it looks softer than regular pubic hair. He wants to bury his face in it. He really wants to get up close and personal. His cheeks burn with it, his mouth waters with it._

_“You asked what’s sensitive, and the answer is this. It’s different than a human organ, but it functions the same. The shapeshifting is handy, though.”_

_Keith startles from his reverie. “Shapeshifting?”_

_“I’m a literal demon, Keith,” Hunk says, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of Keith’s mouth. “I do what I want.”_

_Hunk licks across Keith’s jaw and tugs off his underwear._

_“And you won’t be needing these where we’re going.”_

_“Where are we going, Hunk?” Keith asks, an eyebrow arched. Because if they change venues one more goddamn time, Keith is fairly certain he’ll crack._

_“Oh, we’re not moving again, Keith. We’re not moving until we’re done.”_

_Hunk crouches over Keith’s naked form on the bed, eyes trailing down until he focuses on Keith’s cock, hard and pink, leaking across his stomach. He takes it gently in his grasp, trailing velvet soft touches across the surface. Keith gasps and bucks up into his hand._

_“It’s like that for me, too.” Hunk releases his hold Keith, bringing both hands up next to his head, caging him in between giant, strong arms. “Are you ready?”_

_“Oh my god, yes,” Keith hisses, rushing up to capture Hunk’s mouth with his. Hunk’s forked tongue slips past Keith’s lips, and he whines again, the twin tips playing along his teeth and tongue. Suddenly, a new sensation runs up his leg. It’s light and smooth, but purposeful and sturdy, a thick, sinewy rope curling up his thigh and resting in the dip of his hip. It snakes further up, ghosting over the overhot skin of his cock, toying at him until finally, finally, it wraps fully around his shaft, coiling him in firm warmth. He moans deep into Hunk’s mouth, and the demon’s lips curl in response._

_Hunk pulls away slightly._

_“Like I said, I do what I want.”_

_Keith looks down between their bodies and moans again. It’s a view that he knows will be burned into his brain for the rest of his life. Hunk’s dick is different. It’s longer and thinner and writhing like the tail of a cat, all curled up around Keith’s cock, tugging and pulling at him soft and sweet like nothing else Keith’s ever experienced in his entire life. His brain short-circuits and he groans, pressing insistently back into Hunk’s mouth, licking and nipping at his lips._

_“Hunk, holy fuck that’s so hot.”_

_“I’m glad you like it. It’s got other tricks, if you’d like to see.”_

_“Oh my god, please.”_

_“Please what, Keith?”_

_“Please, show me your tricks, Hunk.”_

_“Alright, baby. If that’s what you really want.”_

_“Fuck, Hunk, please. Please, please,_ please _.”_

_Hunk’s hands skate up Keith’s sides again, his lips trailing after them._

_“I like it when you beg.”_

_Keith whimpers at the gravelly tone laced through Hunk’s words. Hunk growls in his mouth and forces a knee between Keith’s legs, spreading them out and forcing his knees up and around Hunk’s waist._

_“I like it when you make that sound, too.”_

_At that, a hot, slippery bluntness presses at the rim of Keith’s asshole. Keith never heard a bottle open, and Hunk’s hands have been on him this whole time, so that’s strange, but altogether maybe not so surprising._

_“Demon dick,” Hunk confirms, sliding it inside. The air punches out of Keith’s lungs. Hunk’s dick is narrowed down again, roughly the size of one of his thick, human fingers, if Keith were to estimate. It’s smooth, though, so smooth and wet and gentle. His dick slides out and back in, a light thrust, just enough to set Keith panting, but not enough to do much more._

_“More,” Keith says, barely lilting the word into a question. “Please, Hunk, gimme more.”_

_Hunk chuckles. “I like you greedy, too.”_

_His dick withdraws and slides in again, wider this time, the stretch just enough and oh so right. He presses deeper inside, too, just barely grazing Keith’s prostate, lighting him up from the inside out._

_“Nnngh, there, please, oh my god,” Keith moans. “Please, just, don’t stop, holy shit.”_

_He’s sweating and writhing, pressing his chest up against Hunk’s impossibly huge body. Hunk is perfectly still, calm and collected, albeit smiling peacefully as he takes his time._

_“As you wish,” he whispers, thickening his member inside Keith. It nudges his prostate again, and he cries out, arching his back off the bed. Hunk slips an arm in under him, cradling his spine and crushing him against his chest. His dick pulses inside Keith, gliding in and out, dragging across the sensitive bundle of nerves every few thrusts. “I’m taking over now, baby.”_

_He mouths at Keith’s chest, and sits up, still firmly inside Keith’s heat, dragging Keith into his lap again, maneuvering him to straddle his wide thighs, a protective hand at the base of Keith’s spine. He snakes his tongue out, licking up Keith’s chest and brushing over pebbled nipples. His dick thickens again._

_Inside of Keith, he can feel the texture change. The ridges and bumps he saw before start to fill in, dragging against his walls and punching a high pitched moan straight out of his stomach. Hunk catches the moan in his mouth and shudders, the first hint of pleasure from him._

_“Bigger,” Keith demands, squirming in Hunk’s lap. “I can take more.”_

_Hunk’s eyes snap open, cloudy with lust. His eyebrows furrow and his breath catches. They stare each other down for a moment and Keith briefly thinks he’ll be denied, but slowly, so slowly, he feels it. Hunk’s dick is still slowly gliding in and out of him, knocking him deliciously off-center, but it’s balooning out again, easily the thickest thing Keith’s ever experienced in his life._

_“Yesss, right there,” Keith hisses. “Hunk it’s so good. It’s so good.”_

_Keith fervently kisses Hunk and sets his hands on Hunk’s chest. Hunk’s dick pulls almost all the way out, and slide back in, hitting his prostate with purpose. Keith’s vision goes white and he shoves at Hunk, forcing him down on the bed, and dragging his own hands down the expanse of muscles under him. He brings his hands behind him, bracing against Hunk’s thighs._

_“Gonna ride you now,” he grits, raising his hips just a little and dropping back down with force. Hunk finally moans from under him and Keith preens in the face of his hard-won victory. He leans down low over Hunk’s body. “Oh yeah, definitely gonna finish you like this.”_

_He raises up and drops down again, dropping a biting kiss to Hunk’s open mouth before sitting up again to get to work.  Keith braces his hands and and works his hips, pulling up and dropping down, adjusting each time he moves until finally finding the angle that hits him just right._

_“Ah!” Keith cries out over Hunk. “Fuck, that’s so good. You’re so good, Hunk, holy shit.”_

_Hunk moans and bucks underneath him, a sharp snap of hips meeting Keith every time he drops down, skin slapping between them, slippery with whatever slick Hunk is producing. It’s stuffy in the hut, the smell of sex permeating everything. The air is thick with it, and getting thicker as they both climb toward their release._

_Keith keeps riding Hunk, rolling his hips heavily, picking up and dropping down in well timed thrusts, staring imperiously down at Hunk through lidded eyes, smiling every time he moans or grunts. Keith can tell he’s getting close, but he still has one goal to check off. He leans down once more over Hunk’s prone body._

_“Want you to come in me, big guy. Can you do that, baby?”_

_“Holy shit, Keith,” Hunk groans and bingo. Keith’s got what he wanted. He laughs and sits back up in Hunk’s lap, still bouncing, stretching the arch of his back to the extreme. Hunk’s face goes impossibly dark, teeth bared up at the expanse of skin over top of him. Keith preens under the scrutiny._

_“So is that a yes?”_

_Suddenly, the world blurs around Keith as he’s flipped over on his back, with Hunk back on top, Keith bent in half under him. Hunk leans over to cover him with his body, his horned head just next to his, face turned so he can murmur in Keith’s ear. His hips buck forward, his cock dragging deliciously in and out of Keith, nailing his prostate dead on. Keith can barely focus for how deep the pleasure sings through his veins. He’s vaguely aware he’s babbling praise and nonsense, the drag of Hunk’s hot cock filling his senses and overwhelming him._

_“You’re going to come when I say so,” Hunk growls in Keith’s ear, and holy shit, if he wasn’t already ready to go, that would do it for him._

_“Yes, please, fuck. Tell me what to do for you.”_

_Hunk’s hips snap viciously as he drives in and out of Keith, sending him tumbling forwardforwardforward toward release. His head swims with it. The air charges electrically, the smell of fire and passion and lust laying heavy over them._

_“Fuck, Keith, you’re so good. You’re so good for me. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”_

_Keith whines and writhes, he’s trying so hard to wait until Hunk tells him to, but_ god _if he doesn’t want to come right now. Hunk pumps his hips some more. Keith reaches up beside his head, laying his fingers across one of the Ifrit’s horns, stroking in time with Hunk’s thrusts. He shudders into Keith’s touch and keeps whispering to Keith._

_“You were made to be underneath me. You were made to be around me. You were made to be beside me.”_

_Tears fall from Keith’s eyes, he’s drowning in so much pleasure. He’s ready, he’s ready, he’s ready._

_“You’re perfect,” Hunk whispers, and Keith comes with blinding force. Hot spurts of white coat his stomach while Hunk keeps fucking into him, riding him through this orgasm, Keith clenches down around Hunk’s cock and he moans, long and loud, spilling inside. Keith can feel it, ridiculous amounts of liquid heat filling him up, squelching out around Hunk’s slowing thrusts, leaking out when he finally pulls out and lays Keith’s legs down on the bed. It dribbles down his ass and across his thighs when Hunk picks him up to go bathe him directly in the warm waters of the ocean._

_He feels the phantom presence low in his spine when the venue changes again, and he and Human Hunk are sitting in a coffee shop, laughing and drinking overpriced lattes. He feels it when he and Human Hunk are grocery shopping for a few things to fill the vacation house fridge. He feels a peculiar pang in his chest when Human Hunk gets on one knee in Greece and holds out a box. He feels sparks and fire each new time Hunk sheds his glamour and takes him to bed. The fire dulls to hot coals of warmth when Human Hunk holds their daughter for the first time. When they watch her graduate and leave them, meet someone of her own and marry, have her own children and make a legacy for herself._

_The last thing he sees is Hunk offering him a bridge to the next life, full of the same care and devotion he offered in the mortal realm, poised to spin off into eternity._

As abruptly as it started, the feed of scenarios stops, leaving Keith clutching his heaving chest and gasping for breath. Hunk slides his hand down Keith’s jaw and over the surface of his neck, resting it where the smooth column of skin meets Keith’s shoulder. He rubs a long thumb over Keith’s throat, flicking a nail over his Adam’s apple with every pass. Keith scrunches his eyes closed, still trying to regain stability against the heady thoughts flooding his mind.

Hunk’s breath fans out across his cheek and puffs into his ear.

“I could give you that,” he whispers. “I could give you anything you want. I want to. You just have to make the choice.”

Keith opens his eyes at the same time Hunk flicks his wrist and the front door swings open, Lance crashing down to the floor after it.

“Dude!” he shouts in a heap. “Dude, are you okay?! I couldn’t get back in! What the fuck?!”

Hunk moves over to Lance, extending a hand to help him up.

“You didn’t have to worry, he was totally safe with me, man.”

Hunk is right back in that easy going demeanor and Keith damn near contracts whiplash from the sudden change. Hunk knows he notices, because he tosses a quick wink over his shoulder at him, and every synapse in Keith’s brain lights up at once. Lance narrows his eyes and glances between the two of them harshly before deciding against whatever he was thinking.

“Shiro says you can trap this here Hunk of man and do _whatever you think is best_ ,” Lance says, crossing his arms and dropping his voice deep in his best imitation of their producer. “Just be careful. He specifically told me to tell you that. Because you never are. Careful. He told me to tell you that, too.”

Great.


	2. they do not bind us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here we are!
> 
> me, drafting this story: hey guys, welcome back to my vlog, how about keith getting straight up WRECKED BY A DEMON!  
> me, writing this story: cool, but EMOTIONS.
> 
> i hope you enjoy the second half!

“Hunk, man, you better get in here!” Lance calls from the third floor bedroom of their latest assignment. “It’s happening again!”

“Why is it always me?” Keith groans into his hands. He slumps forward in his misery, forgetting the very important fact that he’s currently dangling roughly a foot from the ground, and almost does a full somersault through the air. “Fucking! Fuck this shit!”

“Keith, language! This is cable!” Lance scolds him with a smirk.

“FUCK OFF, LANCE.”

Footsteps thunder up several flights of stairs, Pidge squawking at Shiro to grab a handycam and get his toned ass upstairs.

“I’m coming, I’m _coming,_ ” he calls. A loud thump sounds from directly below the bedroom and Shiro curses loud. “I’m good!”

“Well that’s fucking great, because I’m decidedly NOT GOOD!” Keith shouts out into the room just as Hunk skids through the doorway.

“Well, hey buddy! So nice of you to join us!” Lance greets cheerfully. Keith kicks at him, but misses and goes flailing once more.

Hunk looks up at his form suspended in the middle of the room and snorts softly through his nose. Stepping through the door on light feet, he wiggles his fingers up at Keith in greeting, the sclera of his eyes going black as he scans their surroundings.

“Hey, baby. You doing alright up there?”

“Oh yeah,” Keith snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Never fuckin’ better.”

“It’s okay, honey. I’ll get you down in just a minute.” He steps further into the bedroom, skirting around the bed and crouching down on the floor to peek underneath. “Hey, Pidge?”

“Yeah, big man?” their resident tech expert (and newest addition to the squad) asks, poking her head around the doorframe.

“I didn’t hear Shiro come up here. You got that camera you told him to grab?”

“Yeah, I nabbed it while he was tangled up in some extension cords.”

“Great,” Hunk answers brightly. Keith can hear the smile in his voice, and if he wasn’t so annoyed with his current situation, his spine would go all soft and gooey. As it is, he’s still being held hostage by some damn-ass ghost or poltergeist or what-the-fuck-ever, and he just wants to touch ground again.

As Hunk roots around under the bed, Shiro enters the room and his concerned gaze immediately snaps up to Keith.

“Hey, Keith,” he greets, and Keith can see it written all over his face. He’s trying so hard to stifle the laugh bubbling up behind his teeth. Admittedly, he’s doing an admirable job. “You, uh. You hangin’ in there?”

Lance snorts so loud that Keith briefly wonders if he ruptured something.

“Oh, fuck you guys,” Keith sighs. “Why doesn’t this shit ever happen to any of you?”

“None of us are banging a literal hell beast,” Pidge answers matter-of-factly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Hate to say it babe, but they’re right,” Hunk’s muffled voice interjects from somewhere below. “Although, hell beast feels a little reductive, thanks.”

“My bad. No offense or anything, Hunk.”

“None taken, Pidge.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re the coolest hell beast I’ve ever met, Hunk.”

“That’s sweet, Pidge.”

“Look, I'm super glad we're all bonding and stuff, that's fantastic, but can someone _please_ get me outta the goddamn air?!” Keith is rational. Keith is level-headed. Keith is pragmatic. Keith is getting real tired of this bullshit.

Ever since he met Hunk six months ago and they added human-him to the team as their research and history expert, all the crazy shit decided the best target was Keith. He’s been hovered over multiple surfaces, temporarily blinded, tripped in god knows how many places. Once, he thought his hands were gone. Just up and left him, never to be seen again. Keith never even knew ghosts could make parts of you go invisible, but damn if he didn’t learn that day.

All Keith knows is that this is their last shoot of the season and then he gets to take three blessed, beautiful, quiet months away. _Fuck,_ does he ever deserve them, in his opinion.

“You’re right, baby. You do deserve them,” Hunk answers, stepping up beside him. Keith smiles down at him, thanking his lucky stars that at least _someone_ in this room doesn’t take every possible opportunity to make fun whenever the crazy stuff happens to him. That alone would be enough to make Keith love him. Hunk gasps into Keith’s hip.

“Thank you, honey.”

His voice drips with affection, lancing through Keith’s chest and straight into his heart.

“Dudes, you’re doing it again,” Lance scolds.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Hunk answers, going a little sheepish. “I forget about it sometimes.”

“It’s fine, Hunk,” Shiro placates. “Can you just tell us what you’re looking for?”

Hunk seems to suddenly remember that they’re recording a television show, which, fair enough. Every time something like this happens to Keith, Hunk’s priorities immediately rearrange to put his predicament at the top of the list. Keith’s shoulders drop and he relaxes his arms.

“Yes, Hunk,” he drawls down at them. “Please, in excruciating detail, tell us all what you’re looking for. Because this situation - you know, the whole me being in the air thing? This is _definitely_ new and _not at all_ getting old now. So just, please. Take your time.”

Hunk reaches out and places a large, warm hand on his leg.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes. “I already found it.”

Keith sighs in relief. This is the fastest he’s ever been able to locate the entity screwing around with Keith. They’re all getting pretty practiced in dealing with, recording, and wrapping up these situations, and that alone deserves an emmy or some shit. Hunk snorts and squeezes his thigh.

Pidge focuses the camera in on Hunk’s face as he stares contemplatively at the floor.

“So what are we looking at, big guy?”

“Okay, I’m fairly certain we’re dealing with a low-grade poltergeist. Maybe a four or five?”

“And can you just fill the audience in on what you mean real quick?”

Keith sighs and crosses his arms again.

“Sure,” Hunk answers, squeezing his thigh again. “Quickest version: There are different types of spirits, and those spirits are further broken down into classes, typically one through five, one being the most dangerous and five being the most harmless, depending on the severity of their activity.”

“And you said we’re looking at a four or five? Even though Keith is literally dangling in the air right now?” she asks, panning the camera down to show the empty space between Keith’s toes and the elaborate persian rug on the floor.

“Right, well, just because it moves people doesn’t necessarily mean it’s altogether dangerous. Keith, honey, are you hurt?”

“Just my pride,” Keith deadpans. Hunk smiles at him and releases his thigh, walking back over to reach under the bed.

“See? If it were more dangerous, it’d be throwing him around, physically marking him, things like that. As it is-” he pokes his arm around- “this little guy just seems to want to play.”

When he stands again, Hunk holds a small teddy bear in his hands.

“I’m fairly certain this is a child, actually.” He smiles softly at the corner of the room, and holds the bear out toward where his eyes are tracking. “Aren’t you?”

Keith’s feet slowly lower until he makes contact with the floor again, Lance and Shiro rushing over to help him regain his footing. Hunk treads lightly, approaching the corner until he finally stops and kneels down, presenting the bear to thin air. Pidge focuses her camera’s lens in on his arm. The bear lifts slowly from his palm, and when it does, he leans forward a bit, whispering something into the air.

All at once, the lights in the room go out. Lance yelps into the darkness, pulling Keith to the ground in his surprise. The lights come back a beat later and with them, the dawning realization among the team that both the bear and Hunk are gone.

“Well, what the _fuck,_ ” Keith whispers from beneath Lance, shoving him off to the side. “Where did he go this time?!”

Shiro and Pidge shrug their shoulders in tandem.

“I’m not sure,” Shiro answers for all of them. “I didn’t hear him making noise or anything.”

A loud bang sounds from somewhere downstairs. Everyone’s heads snap toward the door, but Keith is the first to race out toward the noise. He takes the stairs two at a time, Pidge hot on his heels and cursing about dead batteries in the camera.

“Hunk?” Keith calls, rounding a landing. “Hunk, where’d you go?”

“Not to be that guy,” Lance calls from the landing above Keith’s head, and he’s definitely about to be that guy, “but why does he always disappear when some wild shit goes down? You know? How come the dude never just _stays put_.”

“Well, I would _imagine_ ,” Keith grits out as he hits the ground floor, “that exorcising ghosts makes weird things happen to you! Hunk, where the _FUCK DID YOU GO THIS TIME._ ”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m in the kitchen!”

Shiro groans. “Why is it always the kitchen?”

“I heard that!” Hunk calls back. “The kitchen is the heart of the home, Shiro! You know this! Besides, I went to the basement that one time.”

“Ugh,” Keith replies.

“I’ll never get used to this,” Lance complains. Keith is inclined to agree.

They all burst into the room to find Hunk casually seated at the breakfast bar with a book in his hand. Pidge laughs under her breath.

“Of course.”

The book snaps shut in Hunk’s grip. He reaches out for Keith with the other hand, twining their fingers together when Keith’s touch finds his.

“Well, guys?” he asks, looking up at Keith’s face. “Are we ready to get outta here?”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Pidge scolds. “You tried to get out of wrap-up and review last time we had one of these, and it’s _not_ happening this time. The two of you can go get busy on an island later. We have a job to do. You know, so we can pay our bills? Our human bills? With human numbers? That require human money to settle?”

“Yes, yes,” Hunk blithely answers, waving a hand through the air. “I know you all have contracts to fulfill. These things just tire me.”

It’s always obvious, to Keith anyway, when Hunk tires out, because his glamour shimmers a bit around the edges and he slips back into formal speech. They had talked, once, about how much energy it takes for him to maintain his human appearance. They had to have a more serious discussion, though, when Hunk joined them on assignment and their first real event happened.

Hunk had already been nervous about the location from the moment they’d arrived, but then Keith ended up being the basement guy _again_ , and things got a little crazy, and before he knew it, Hunk was climbing window sills to pull his ass off of the roof. Eventually, they ended up steady on the ground again, but not without side effects. Hunk’s glamour hung on for the most part, but his horns poked through and they had to scrap all of their footage from the event.

Currently, Keith steps forward to run a hand down Hunk’s arm.

“You’re breaking through again,” he murmurs.

“Ah, yes. I can feel it,” Hunk answers him lowly.

“Pidge, can we at least do Hunk’s wrap-up and then he can head out to the van while we finish up?”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

She wanders off to the foyer of the house to set up their freestanding interview camera, and Shiro drags Lance out behind her to start taking down their equipment in the house. Recognizing the moment for what it is, Hunk hooks a thick arm around Keith’s waist and pulls him in close.

“How are you feeling?”

Keith laughs, settling his palms against Hunk’s chest. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Ehh, this isn’t the worst I’ve dealt with,” he answers, pressing his forehead to Keith’s shoulder. “I am exhausted, however. I really do wish you would stop getting lifted off the ground. It concerns me.”

“Hmm, I suppose that’s just what happens when you bang a literal hell beast,” Keith teases, kissing his hairline. Hunk laughs and pushes him away lightly so he can stand and stretch his back. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, drawing his glamour back in tight.

“Goodness, I cannot wait to drop this skin.”

“God, I can’t wait either,” Keith answers, dragging his eyes down Hunk’s thick chest, across his rounded belly, and over his legs. Hunk laughs again and pats his cheek.

“Eager.”

Keith opens his mouth to retort, but it’s too little too late, and Hunk is swaying past him to the entryway for his review with Pidge. Keith grumbles, following behind, and tries his best not to get distracted when Hunk tightens his headband and licks his bottom lip as he recounts communicating with a ghost boy. The thought brings Keith pause. Do you go to hell for something like that? How do they judge you at the gates when they see that shit? _What’s up, Peter, how ya doing? You chillin’? That’s cool, that’s cool. Hey listen, about that time I got turned on listening to my literal demon boyfriend talking about communicating with a dead child...look, have you seen him? Who am I kidding, you’ve totally seen him. What I’m saying is, he licked his lip all nice and you for sure have it written in that book of yours how I feel about that, so can we just, I dunno. Forget about it?_

Imagination Peter and Human Hunk both laugh at his misfortune.

Keith shakes his head in embarrassment and leaves the room to do a final sweep of the house. Eventually, Pidge calls him in to do his interview, and _god_ , is he ready to get the entire hell out of this house. Right before she hits record, Keith’s phone vibrates in his pocket with a text message. This is a rare occurrence, considering most of the people he hangs out with are currently on location with him. He pulls it slightly out of his pocket to check the screen.

 **_Hunk:_ ** _For the record, Peter has always had a sense of humor._

 **_Hunk:_ ** _I don’t think he’d bring up the lip thing._

Keith’s face goes furiously hot, which is fucking fantastic, because Pidge chooses that exact moment to begin asking questions.

“So, Keith, tell us about what happened today.”

“Well, I got swept off my feet a-fucking-gain,” he deadpans into the camera, voice cracking a little.

“You’re awfully red, Keith.”

“Oh really?” His voice is extremely fucking strangled and he can feel the blush burning high on his ears. He curses Hunk’s name to all corners of the Earth and pictures a life in which he gets left at ground level. Honestly, it would be a much more boring existence. And if, as Hunk claims, Peter is a guy who can appreciate ridiculous situations, Keith might be able to get away with a few more transgressions. His phone vibrates in his pocket again.

 **_Hunk:_ ** _I heard that, baby._

“ _Fuck_ ,” Keith whispers.

“What’s up, Keith? Hubby getting antsy?”

“He’s not my hubby.”

His phone vibrates again.

 **_Hunk:_ ** _Yet._

“ _Fuuuuck._ ”

 **_Hunk:_ ** _I suppose antsy is one way to put it._

 **_Hunk:_ ** _You should finish up in there, honey._

“What’s he saying? It can’t be that important. You literally just saw each other.” Pidge is definitely getting annoyed, and Keith is getting more distracted, and this whole day is just a wash, really. He’s ready for bed. The sooner he gets through this, the better. Nonchalance is the best way to go, he decides.

“No, sorry. He just was asking a question about something.”

“He couldn’t wait until we were done?” Pidge retorts with a raised brow. Keith raises his hands in surrender. His phone vibrates again, but he ignores it and tucks it away.

“I’m sorry, Pidge. Let’s finish up.”

They talk for about ten minutes, going over the night’s events and Hunk’s handling of things. _Oh yes, it was absolutely terrifying being used as a dead kid’s plaything. Oh no, even though this has happened plenty before and everything always happens to him and no it’s super not fair, he’ll never stop being shaken to the core._ Keith thinks maybe he’s laying it on a little thick until Pidge ends things with a laughing comment about how the execs will eat it up, at the very least.

“What was he even asking about anyway?” Pidge asks, winding an aux cord around her arm.

“Huh? Oh!” Keith remembers the message he ignored and takes his phone out again.

 **_Hunk:_ ** _I’m looking forward to transgressing._

 **_Hunk:_ ** _Peter will understand._

Keith’s blood runs hot and his skin goes cold. His knees knock together and he almost drops his phone. Pidge rolls her eyes.

“You guys are gross.”

She puts the camera back in its case and heads to the front door, tossing a derisive looks over her shoulder.

“Come on, loverboy. Let’s go clock out.”

They wander back to the van to meet up with the others. Lance and Shiro are talking animatedly as they sit on the edge of the back of the van, the doors thrown open to the cool night air. Hunk lazes casually on the floor, dozing lightly. The moonlight hits his face through the windows and his skin shimmers with it. Even with the glamour thrown on, his energy is never totally dampened, just the barest hints of his true nature always peeking through. Keith stops to admire him for a moment, smiling lightly down at him.

It had been a weird few first months for them, just trying to learn each other and figure out if their attraction was just some cosmic bullshit trying to force their hand or something more. Sure, the sex was incredible, but no relationship can be built on that alone. Trying to navigate a tentative relationship and record a nationally broadcast television show with an actual demon was tough.

They eventually found their footing, though. In between filming and traveling and hotel breakfasts, they found snatches of time to really talk and get to know each other. Keith learned Hunk’s given name and purpose, Hunk learned Keith’s tangled history. They built trust and respect and all the things really needed to form a healthy bond, and with every new brick added to that foundation, Keith found himself growing more and more attracted to Hunk. Each passing day watered the bud of love that sat heavy in his gut when he thought of the other man. Demon. Fella? Whatever.

Hunk cracks an eye open and winks at him.

“Goddammit,” Keith grumbles under his breath. Hunk snorts softly, startling a firefly that had wandered into the van over his head. He sits up and slides out of the van to make his way over to Keith. As he approaches, his face relaxes into a casual fondness. He drags a hand down Keith’s side, sending shivers rippling across his skin.

“Are you ready to leave, dear?” he asks low, dropping a kiss to Keith’s face.

“God, yes.”

“Fantastic.” Hunk smirks and takes Keith’s hand up in his. “Let’s get moving, then.”

Keith turns to say his goodbyes to the team, but they’re already staring them down. Lance leans over next to Pidge’s ear.

“Do you think they know we’re still here?” he stage whispers.

“Does it honestly matter?” she quips.

“Fair point.”

Shiro laughs and raises a hand to send them off.

“You two be safe! We’ll see you next month!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith answers. “See you guys.”

He and Hunk make their way toward the treeline, just in case anyone is around watching. The last thing they need is for anyone to see them just disappear and go running to the press. As they go, Keith can still hear Lance’s voice carry on the air.

“I don’t even think Paris with Allura is going to erase the thought of what they’re gonna get up to, you guys.”

“You could always just stay home,” Shiro answers.

“Are you _crazy?!_ ”

Keith laughs to himself as Hunk pulls him into the circle of his arms. The last thing he hears before his navel tightens and twists is Pidge’s sarcasm.

“I bet my brother could figure out how to wipe your mind for you if you really wanted.”

Keith’s stomach slams into his throat as wind rushes all around him. The sound is deafening, plugging his ears and filling his head until he drowns in the static of it all. The travel is the worst part; he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.

Just as soon as it started, the motion stops. Keith’s body touches ground in the living room of the summer condo before his mind catches up, and it’s a peculiar feeling. He can feel himself hovering around outside of his own body, but still tethered to his pulse. He can see himself and Hunk standing together, but he sees it both from above and from his own eyes. The twin sights crowd his head, clouding his perception. His body buzzes with it, zinging all through the very soul of him, filling his head with more wind and static.

He watches Hunk place human hands on his face and speak soothingly to him.

“I’m here, Keith. You’re here. It’s alright. You’re safe. Come back now. Come back to me.”

Keith watches Hunk’s fingers skate over his cheeks, and he closes his eyes, feeling out the sensation. Soft fingertips ghost across his skin, grounding him and helping him slot the pieces of himself back together. When his lids flutter open again, he finds himself staring up into Hunk’s face, human glamour shed. He’s just as imposing and impressive as the first time Keith saw him. Keith’s mouth goes dry with it.

Hunk’s fingers rub over his face, soothing little circles meant to distract.

“Better?” he asks softly.

“Yeah,” Keith answers just as quiet. He doesn’t want to break this moment. It’s so painfully tender; a sensation he’s still thrown by every now and again. It’s warm and soft and welcoming. He closes his eyes again and leans into Hunk’s touch. “Better.”

“Good,” Hunk answers, dragging a finger across Keith’s lips, demon claw scratching lightly over the delicate skin. Keith sucks in a breath, eyes snapping open. Hunk’s eyes bore into his, burning with all the fire and power contained within him. It gets Keith every time he gets a glimpse of the demon’s true nature. He’s starting to think he has a real power kink or something.

“I had the house stocked in preparation for our arrival,” Hunk rumbles, bending low to drag black lips over Keith’s racing pulse. “Why don’t we find out?”

Keith becomes a puddle in his arms. Hunk scoops him up easily, throwing Keith’s legs around his strong waist and sneaking a forked tongue out over the line he just kissed across Keith’s skin. Keith shivers as cool air hits Hunk’s saliva on his neck, and Hunk chuckles dangerously. He stands to his full height, stalking through the house toward the bedroom. His hands grab lightly at Keith’s body through his clothes and Keith presses himself closer to Hunk’s chest, dropping kisses to whatever grey flesh he can reach, nipping lightly as he goes.

Hunk pushes the bedroom door open with a broad shoulder, drawing up to the edge of the bed to set Keith gingerly down. Keith peers up at him through his lashes, just the way he knows Hunk likes, and sits up on his knees. Hunk backs away a few steps, staring down at him with intensity until Keith shivers with it. He turns away and strides to the dresser, toeing open the bottom drawer.

“Get undressed for me, dearest. I have a gift for you.”

Keith raises an eyebrow at his back.

“If it’s coming from the dresser, I’d imagine it’s more of a gift for _you._ ”

“Perhaps,” Hunk answers, “but I think you’ll still enjoy it.”

He stands back up, an ornately wrapped gift box clutched gingerly in his large hands, and returns to Keith. He stands before him, box presented, and curls his lips in a teasing smirk. Keith looks between Hunk and the box a few times, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Did I miss a holiday or something?”

“Mmm, no,” Hunk answers, setting the box down next to Keith. He reaches out a clawed finger to hook in the neckline of Keith’s t-shirt. “I asked you to undress.”

He’s got that _look_ in his eye, like the first time they ever had sex. That look that tells Keith he has very little time before he just ends up wrecked, speared on the end of an interdimensional-

“Demon dick, yes. I know.”

Keith laughs, standing from the bed.  He steps around Hunk, facing the immense expanse of his back. He sets his hands on thick, broad hips and spins Hunk around to face him. Biting his lip, Keith places his hands on hard, marble abs and glances up at Hunk through his messy bangs. He pokes his tongue out to lick at his bottom lip, maintaining searing eye contact with him and shoves.

Hunk collapses easily to the bed, legs spread and attention rapt. Keith sways up into the space between his knees and leans forward, ghosting his lips across his wide jaw. If he’s gonna do this, he thinks, he’s gonna do it big. Hunk groans before him. A rush of power climbs Keith spine, and he reaches over his head, tugging his shirt off in one swift motion. Hunk’s jaw tightens, clawed fingers curling into fists at his side. Keith drops his shirt to the floor. He reaches out, trailing his fingers along Hunk’s jaw and down his throat.

“You gonna stay dressed, baby?”

Hunk swallows hard as he considers his options.

“For now.”

“Hmmm,” Keith hums. He steps back and bends down to unlace his boots, stepping out of them and scooting them back with his feet. Standing upright again, Keith reaches forward, dragging his palms up Hunk’s clothed thighs, marveling at the sheer size of them. He can’t stop himself from whispering, “You could crush me with these and I’d _thank you._ ”

Hunk’s fists tighten and release. He raises his hands from the bed, reaching out for Keith, but no. That’s not how Keith’s decided to play this evening. He lightly slaps Hunk’s hands away.

“No, baby. You don’t get to touch until I get all dressed up for you.” Hunk makes a noise dangerously close to a whine, which is hilarious to hear coming from a demon. “Isn’t that what you want? I’m guessing that’s what your gift is.”

Hunk releases a heavy breath, setting his hands back down.

“Why don’t you find out, sweetheart?” he asks, picking the box up from the bed and holding it out. Keith regards it, and twists his face up in exaggerated contemplation.

“Mmm, not yet.”

He runs his hands over his chest, pushing fingers up to trace the curves of his own throat. Through lidded eyes, Hunk tracks every movement. Even with his midnight gaze, Keith can still read his desire like a book. Keith drags his hands back down, slipping his thumbs over his nipples until they pebble up under his touch. Hunk growls deep in his chest. The edges of the box crush beneath his grip.

“You like that? You wish you were doing it instead of me?” Keith asks, pinching and pulling at the reddened nubs. “You wish you had your mouth on these?”

Hunk leans forward on the bed, attention rapt and focused on Keith’s chest.

“Soon,” Keith teases, dragging his hands away from his chest and down over his abs. He splays his fingers out over the skin of his stomach, scratching lightly with blunt nails, down down down until he reaches his waistband. Keith hooks his thumbs beneath the material, dragging them around the front and off to his hips. When he reaches his sides, he pulls his hands back up again, scraping up the curves of his waist.

Hunk shifts around and Keith drops his gaze, glancing down to see the considerable bulge growing steadily in his groin. Smirking, Keith drops his hands and steps forward to him, walking fingers across the front of Hunk’s pants. Hunk’s eyes flutter closed, breath panting out in jagged heaves.

“How are we doing?” Keith asks sweetly, taking the gift box up in one hand and setting his other palm fully against Hunk’s crotch. “Are we doing okay?”

A forked tongue sneaks out from between oil slick lips and bridges the sizeable gap between them. Twin tips trail up Keith’s jawline, Hunk’s tongue extending further, until they reach his earlobe. Hunk hisses deep and curls his tongue around Keith’s ear.

“So yes? We’re good?” He takes the tongue in his hand and pulls it from his face, laying a single pointer finger against the underside to drag along the wet muscle as Hunk retracts it back. Hunk huffs out at him in frustration, and Keith gets the message. “Alright, big boy. I’ll stop teasing.”

Unceremoniously, Keith reaches down and unbuttons his jeans, tugging them clean down to his ankles. He stands again to reveal his half-hard cock, uncovered by anything else. Hunk’s vision zeroes in on it and he groans, eyes snapping back up to Keith’s face.

“I got you a gift, too,” Keith jokes. He steps forward and delicately sits on Hunk’s knee, regarding the gift box in his hand. Carefully, he picks at the tape securing the paper. Slowly, he tears the curled ribbon and metallic paper away and drops it to the floor. He lifts the lid and can’t control it when his eyebrows jump clean up to his hairline as he sees what’s inside.

Tossing the lid aside, he reaches into the box to run his fingers over the lace and leather nestled in tissue paper.

“Hunk,” he breathes, lifting out a leather chest harness followed by a thong crafted out of deep, emerald lace.

A clawed hand drags up his chest and wraps around his throat.

“Yes, baby?”

Keith’s eyes flutter closed.

“Are we doing the thing?”

“You requested it specifically. Who am I to deny you?”

Another clawed hand drags up the inside of Keith’s thigh, backs of fingers barely teasing along the side of his dick. Keith shivers, feeling himself getting harder at the thought of what’s to come. Hunk takes the harness from Keith’s hands, tapping his elbows until he raises his arms. He slips the leather straps over Keith’s head and fastens the harness around his torso, carefully tightening buckles and clasps until it fits just on the right side of too tight. When he’s done, he taps Keith’s hip until he stands and grabs the thong, holding it out over the floor. Keith takes his cue, bracing himself against Hunk’s broad shoulder as he lifts one leg followed by the other to step into it. Hunk tugs the panties up over his hips, settling the fabric over his sharp hips.

Hunk settles back on the bed, leaning heavy on his arms, gaze burning trails up and down the length of Keith’s body.

“Spin around for me, honey.” His voice is changed now, taking on the air of otherworldliness that touches it every time things get serious between them. The timbre is a sound Keith feels in his very soul. It never fails to send shockwaves through him. He suspects, somewhere in a darkened corner of his mind, that his body must be tuned to respond to it. How very pavlovian.

“Okay,” Keith whispers, and makes to turn, but a hand shoots out to grip his wrist.

“Okay, _what?_ ” Hunk whispers. Keith’s lids lower, his brain going supernova. He’s buzzing with want, dangerously hard in his new panties and throbbing. He can’t believe they’re finally doing this.

“Okay, daddy,” he corrects himself. Hunk smiles at him lazily and lets him go.

Keith spins around slowly, feeling the electricity of Hunk’s gaze the whole time, and once he faces him again, he’s fully naked, standing at his full height before him. Keith’s knees shake as he takes him in, erect and proud before him. His dick is in its neutral form, pointed head dripping on the floor below him. The ridges around the shaft flutter a little, the nubs below pulsing with his blood. Keith wants to get his mouth on it _yesterday_.

Hunk smiles, running a large palm under Keith’s jaw. Suddenly, the world blurs as Keith finds himself lifted into the air and settled on the edge of the bed.

“Then get to it,” Hunk rumbles, grabbing Keith by the hair and dragging him forward, mouth perfectly lined up with his dick. “Take care of daddy, won’t you, little one?”

Every molecule of oxygen evacuates Keith’s body, his mouth dropping open obediently without his direction. The weeping head of Hunk’s dick settles heavy on his tongue, the smoky tang of his pre-come flooding his mouth and flowing through his senses. His own cock throbs between his legs in desperation. Hunk thrusts forward lightly, pushing himself shallowly into Keith’s mouth. He runs his hand down the side of Keith’s face, stroking a loving thumb over his cheekbone.

“If you do a good job, you’ll get a reward. You want that honey, don’t you?”

Keith whines around Hunk’s dick, looking up into his eyes. They’re set in concentration, every line of his face tuned to authority. His lust swims in choppy waves behind his glistening eyes, settling around Keith’s shoulders like a shroud. He breathes deep through his nose and swallows Hunk down as far as he can. He flattens his tongue, running it over the ridges of Hunk’s shaft, until the very tip of his tongue flicks the first line of nodules halfway down.

He swirls his tongue, Hunk groaning above him, and reaches up to take what he can’t swallow into his palm. His hand is snatched from mid-air.

“No, baby,” Hunk grits, “You don’t get to use your hands anymore.”

Hunk drops Keith’s hand in his lap and grabs him by the hair again. He thrusts smoothly into Keith’s mouth, thickening his dick as he pushes in. The head of his dick hits the back of Keith’s throat, and he chokes, coughing around the engorged flesh.

“Shhh, honey,” Hunk soothes. “Relax your jaw and swallow. I know what you can do with this mouth. Show daddy what you’re capable of.”

 _Holy fuck_ , does he ever want to.

Keith swallows hard around Hunk’s dick and shoves his mouth forward. Hunk moans heavily above him, tightening his fingers in Keith’s hair and tugging harshly. He forces Keith’s mouth down further over his dick and sets a brutal pace, fucking smooth and deep into his throat. Keith chokes and sputters, tears squeezing from his eyes and running down his cheeks. He squirms and moans, vibrating his throat around Hunk as snot and saltwater roll down his face. Hunk’s hips stutter as he pushes himself even further into Keith, narrowing the tip of his dick and working it, eel-like past Keith’s tonsils and down his throat. Keith can feel it, wriggling around in his neck, excavating down into the depths of him. Hunk’s dripping fluids desensitize his gag reflex, his throat going numb and lax against each push.

“Keith, sweetheart,” Hunk moans, “your mouth is so good, honey. So perfect. You’re so small.”

The portion of Hunk’s dick that still rests in his mouth thickens again, almost smothering Keith with the size of it, and he closes his eyes, blinking back sobs and moaning heavily around it. He swallows _hard_ around Hunk, pulling a shout from above him.

“I’m coming right down your throat, baby boy,” he grunts, and a moment later, Keith feels his throat flood with thick, hot fluid. Hunk’s dick wriggles back out of his throat, trailing come up into Keith’s mouth as it withdraws. It spills over his lips, drips down across his chest, splashes down on his lap. He swallows what he can and coughs up the rest, leaning forward to catch his breath.

His chest heaves as his breathing evens out, and Hunk crouches down before him, settling hot hands over his shoulders. He rubs small circles into Keith’s skin.

“You did so well, Keith. You were so good for me. Did you like that? Was that acceptable?”

“Oh my god, Hunk,” Keith croaks out, his voice torn and scratchy. “I need you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me _right. now._ ”

Hunk chuckles and scoops Keith up from the bed, lifting him bridal style so he can sit down, settling Keith down on his lap.

“As you wish.”

Hunk spins Keith around to face him, legs spread out over his large lap. Keith looks up into his face and his horns absolutely _glow_ in the low lamplight of the room. Absently, Keith reaches up, stroking his fingertips across the surface of one. Hunk’s eyes flutter closed. His jaw goes slack, little moans tumbling from his lips, followed by a forked tongue lapping at the air.

Keith presses harder, wrapping his fingers as fully as he can around the horn, rubbing gingerly. He flicks his wrist and Hunk growls harshly, eyes popping open.

“Do you want me to come again for you?”

Keith smirks up at him.

“Maybe.”

Hunk’s dick squirms around beneath Keith, wriggling and sliding against his skin. The head snakes up between his ass cheeks, dripping in slick and vibrating lightly. Keith tightens his grip around Hunk’s horn and grinds down heavily against him. The head thins out and pushes against his rim, tracing heavily around the puckered flesh. Keith shudders and moans as the familiar tingles of lust crackle up his spine.

Hunk leans down, mouthing up the column of Keith’s neck.

“The next time I come will be inside you, darling.”

Hunk slides his dick in without warning, thick as one of his fingers and just as deep, and Keith cries out. He slumps forward against Hunk’s chest, moaning and grinding, as Hunk works himself in and out leisurely, lightly dragging along Keith’s prostate as he goes. Each stroke punches the tiniest breath out of Keith, little huffs of pleasure.

Hunk grabs onto the harness and pushes Keith further down his lap, seating him close to his knees. His dick stays inside him, lengthening and thrusting slowly with purpose. Keith looks down between his legs, watching as Hunk’s shaft stretches out and loops over itself, long coils of hot flesh stacked on top of each other. He’s still fucking Keith, and with every push inside, his head presses into his walls, dragging hotly down his insides.

Hunk takes Keith’s hands in his, lacing their fingers. His digits fold in half over the entirety of Keith’s hands, claws coming to rest at the bird-delicate bones of his wrist. His grip squeezes gently and he smiles.

“I think you should watch this, sweetheart.”

He angles his head down between them and Keith follows his gaze. In the space between their bodies, the loops of Hunk’s dick lift themselves slowly and drop, inch by inch, until they wrap around Keith’s shaft. The ridged coils slide and tighten until Keith is engulfed from root to tip, delicious friction dragging along his front and pushing into him from behind.

Hunk thickens the head of his dick, fucking into Keith again with purpose. He groans deep and grinds his hips down, searching out more of that friction, more of that contact, more of that _fullness_.

“Hunk, please,” he begs. “Gimme more.”

The coils around his cock tighten and shift, pulling lightly at his skin. The hot squelching in his ass grows thicker and louder as Hunk’s dick grows bigger inside of him. Keith rolls his hips with it, snapping himself back on each downstroke. Hunk grunts with each push, thrusts himself in a little harsher at each movement of Keith’s hips. The coils push and pull against Keith’s straining erection, pushing him higher and higher, strangled whines leaving his mouth.

Keith’s body burns with pleasure. Hunk loops an arm around his back, crushing him to his chest. Keith is so close, so close. The knot of release tightens by degrees between his hips and he can feel it coming like a summer monsoon, hot and tidal. Suddenly, Hunk stops moving and Keith whines. The coils gripping Keith’s dick pull off and away as Hunk’s own shrinks back down to size. He withdraws from Keith’s body altogether. Keith sobs openly into his chest at the feeling of emptiness.

“Baby, no, I’m so close. Daddy, _please._ ”

Hunk shushes him and drags soothing claws through his hair. Keith’s pulse slows down by degrees, the painful edge of denied release stepping down to an annoying throb.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

“Are...are we taking a reminiscence break?”

“Humor me, dear.”

Keith sighs. Hunk’s hand sneaks up around his throat and squeezes. His fingers press down on Keith’s windpipe, nearly cutting off all breathing. Keith’s breaths turn raspy and labored, his throat scratchy with the fight against suffocation.

“And don’t talk back.”

“ _Holy shit,_ ” Keith chokes out in a whisper.

“What?”

“I-uh, yes, daddy.” Keith’s going lightheaded, dizzy with lack of oxygen. He’s never been so turned on in his life. The pain of need rushes back through him, throbbing through his groin and pulsing in his head. Hunk releases his throat. Keith sucks in a harsh breath, air rushing back through his body. He’s still lightheaded and dizzy, but now it’s on the rush of being choked by this huge entity that he trusts to know his limits. He knows Hunk would never hurt him. He knows he can trust him to stop just at the right time. He knows he can trust Hunk with everything.

“I trust you as well, Keith.”

Keith’s hearts bursts in his chest.

“As I was saying, do you remember that when we first met, I told you that you were my intended?”

“Yes,” Keith answers. He can’t quite suss out where this line of questioning is going, and the hazy cloud of pheromones and lust isn’t lending him any favors. As if to satiate him, Hunk’s hands come around to grip at his hips. He pushes Keith forward and back, sending him rocking over his erection, slipping the textured flesh between Keith’s asscheeks. Keith moans on the heat.

“And do you remember that I told you that the universe created you just for me and me just for you?”

“Yes, o-of course-ah!” The nodules of Hunk’s shaft catch at Keith’s puffy rim as he rocks, jarring his words as they climb from his throat.

“And do you remember how much you hated that? How you railed against the universe for trying to make such a decision for you?” Hunk thumbs over Keith’s nipples. Keith hisses between his teeth at the sensation. Hunk’s fingertips suddenly go ice-cold, teasing the mounds into full hardness beneath his touch. Hunk splays his hands across Keith’s chest, runs chilled fingers beneath the straps of the harness and down his flanks. He bucks his hips as Keith grinds on him, forcing more contact between Keith’s sensitive rim and the texture of his shaft.

“G-god, I-I hated it.”

“Hated?” Hunk questions, slipping cold hands under Keith’s armpits and lifting him from his lap. Keith whines at the loss, quickly edging into annoyance over the constant stop and go. Hunk chuckles at him and spins him around to face him again, settled back down on his lap. “You _hated_ it?”

Keith sits back down with a huff and crossed arms.

“Well, I don’t now.”

“And why is that, little one?” Hunk inquires, warming his hands again and rubbing them over Keith’s back. He traces light fingers down the nodules of Keith’s spine and slides them lower and lower still until he slips them beneath the plush cheeks of Keith’s ass, squeezing lightly at the muscle.

“Because the universe was right.”

Hunk narrows his eyes at Keith and leans forward.

“How so?”

“Look,” Keith huffs, “I don’t do shit I don’t wanna do. You know that.”

“I do,” Hunk confirms.

“So yeah, the fuckin’ stars said we were meant to be together or some dumb astrological shit. But _we_ decide if they’re right or not. _I_ decide if I want you. _You_ decide if you want me. Nobody else gets to do it for us.”

Hunk’s face goes impossibly soft. Black brows furrow together, glassy coal-marble eyes well up with moisture, an obsidian lips trembles. Keith softens with it. Keith has thought it. He’s never said it. He hasn’t said it yet because he just wasn’t ready to say it. Hunk knows anyway. Demon dick, demon brain, demon powers, yada yada yada.

Either way, the universe may have dropped a card in the old proverbial suggestion box, but Keith was the one to decide to accept the input. Keith would follow Hunk to the ends of the earth, but only because Hunk proved himself worth following. Keith hopes he feels the same.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Hunk breathes, leaning his forehead against Keith’s. “Of course I do.”

Keith smiles up at him, running soft fingers across his face. He pulls him down by the cheek to kiss him chastely on the mouth. A forked tongue sneaks out to tease at his lower lip. Keith parts his lips to draw it in, responding with his own. His flagging erection pulses between his legs and, oh right. They were busy. He grinds down on Hunk’s lap again. Hunk’s breath stutters into Keith’s mouth and he smiles. He grinds down again.

Hunk billows out into full hardness in an instant. _Demon dick._ A few more rolls of Keith’s hips and Hunk is positively dripping beneath him, all hot and bothered and panting. Keith lifts his body to line Hunk up with his entrance. He hovers, the barest hint of Hunk’s tip breaching him. Resting his hands on Hunk’s chest, he looks up into his eyes.

“Do you remember what you said to me earlier?” He asks. Hunk raises an eyebrow at him, so he conjures up the conversation in his mind.

_“What’s up, Keith? Hubby getting antsy?”_

_“He’s not my hubby.”_

Hunk’s eyebrows jump further up his forehead.

“Yet,” Keith says with conviction and sinks down. Hunk yelps between them as Keith bottoms out, ass fully pressed against Hunk’s groin. He can feel Hunk’s dick adjusting, sizing down enough to not injure him. It takes him a little longer than normal, which Keith assumes is due to the nuclear fucking payload he just dropped on him. Snickering, Keith lifts his hips and drops down again, eyelids fluttering closed.

“Would you like that?” He asks, raising up and dropping down again. He opens his eyes again. Hunk’s horns are actually glowing this time, golden, sparkling light shimmering all around them. Keith leans forward, pressing into his chest and bouncing again. The change in angle sends Hunk right into his prostate, and he cries out, pressing his hips down into the feeling. “Well, _daddy_? You wanna stay with me?”

He rolls his hips, raises and drops, moans into Hunk’s skin. Two thick hands rest on his shoulders, stilling him in Hunk’s lap. Keith looks up through hooded eyes. Hunk’s horns are bright white and shimmering now. Keith reaches up to trace them. _Beautiful,_ he thinks. Hunk’s hands squeeze at his shoulders.

“Do you mean that, Keith Kogane?” he asks, serious and low. His voice drips with emotion, thick and sensual. Keith’s breath stutters slow and he rests a hand against Hunk’s cheek, the demon’s eyes fluttering closed as he leans into the touch.

“Of course I mean it, Hadthuilli Gidenih.”

The light from Hunk’s horns peaks in a blinding flash, and Keith is laid out on his back beneath coiling muscles and squeezing hands. Hunk’s dick slips back inside him and warm lips drag down his chest, tongue lapping out over sweat-salted skin. He pauses over Keith’s heart to speak into his chest.

“I would like to claim you,” he whispers.

“I feel like you already have,” Keith answers, stroking down the curled tip of a horn. Hunk shudders beneath his touch.

“No, I-” he growls, frustrated. “I would like to _claim_ you. To mate you?”

Keith looks down in amusement at where they’re joined. Hunk snorts.

“Not like that. It is more like...a permanent coupling. I give you my mark. It makes you my mate. _My_ mate.”

“Your mate?” Keith asks, just for clarity’s sake. He knows precisely what Hunk means, but he fully intends to make him say it, just for the sake of being a shit. Hunk knows that’s what he’s doing, because his lip quirks sharply at the corner, but he ignores it.

“ _Only mine_.”

The heat and force in the words nearly send Keith blind, they’re so purposeful and intent. Keith closes his eyes and recalls the first time he ever encountered Hunk’s power, his promise. _Interdimensional sex, visions of a calm future spread out over decades together, a family, a peaceful death followed by a peaceful afterlife. Hunk’s hand reaching out for him as he conquers the grave and steps confidently into whatever future they might find together._

“I could give you that,” Hunk repeats his words. “I’ll give you everything, beloved. You just have to make the choice.”

See, the thing is, Keith already has. He knows it, Hunk knows it. Fuck, _Peter_ probably knows it. It’s hardly a choice. Not even a choice at all. Keith chooses his own fate. Keith paves his own way. Keith marks the trajectory of his heart. Hunk, as it so happens, has become that heart. Hunk is his rock, his home. Keith would defy the stars to see him happy.

Hunk shifts above him, and Keith’s mouth starts moving before he allows himself to think.

“You are the choice,” he answers with finality. “Do it.”

Hunk’s face goes hungry. His mouth spreads in a feral smile, eyes blazing with heat. His dick shivers inside of Keith, as if anticipating what’s to come. He leans down to whisper in Keith’s ear.

“It’s a little barbaric,” he says, thrusting forward. Keith moans and squirms beneath him.

“I don’t care.”

“It will hurt,” he says, thrusting in deeper. Keith slams his eyes closed and licks his lips, biting his cheek.

“I don’t care.”

“It’s permanent,” he says, thrusting in harder. Keith cries out, arms rushing up to grip his biceps.

“That’s the point.”

“You’ll like it,” he says, setting a brutal pace. Keith drools and begs, legs wrapped around Hunk’s waist.

He wants it, oh god he wants it. With Hunk buried to the hilt, pounding him into the mattress, lighting up every nerve and synapse, he wants it. Hunk lays a hand over Keith’s heart, his horns glowing soft gold, and begins to speak.

“Sicut astra possis dictare, possis eligere et sum. Tu mihi me ad te pertinent. Ut sint unum et non unum. Ego tibi dabo potestatem tuam dabo te in sanguinem, ita ut non tenetur.”

The rooms rumbles with his voice, a wind kicking up around them, swirling in the air as their bodies move together. Keith reaches up to grasp at Hunk’s horns as the ifrit thrusts into him. The friction builds and pulses between them, the sweet drag of flesh on flesh burning from the inside out. Hunk breathes his name and Keith rolls his hips in time with the beating of their syncopated hearts.

Hunk takes Keith’s hands in his and drags his mouth to Keith’s shoulder. His pace doubles, pushing Keith to the edge. Keith flutter’s around him and Hunk’s muscles tense. His hips stutter and snap, heavy balls slapping Keith’s ass.

“I’m going to mark you now, Keith.”

Razor sharp teeth sink into the junction of his neck and shoulder, driving deep into the muscle. He screams out in pain as Hunk’s jaw works around him. Blood and saliva roll across his skin, slipping over his shoulder and puddling below him. Hunk’s hips snap harshly against him and slowly, slowly, the pain ebbs away.

Through the bite, tendrils of emotion begin to worm their way into him. It starts as a dull wave, warmth and respect creeping across his body, soft and sweet. Then the waves sharpen into sparks, devotion, passion, lust. Hunk picks up on it and lifts Keith’s hips, driving into him just right. He sucks at Keith’s shoulder where his teeth are still jammed into the skin. The sparks flatten out into a steady pulse of love, love, love.

Hunk reaches between them and takes Keith in hand, pumping him in time with his erratic thrusts. It only takes a few strokes and Keith is coming _hard_ , shouting with the force. It paints Hunk’s hand and Keith’s stomach. It splatters over the long-forgotten harness strapped to his chest. It forces him to clamp down on Hunk who growls, releasing Keith’s shoulder as he comes in him. It pulses and floods through Keith’s insides, squelching out as Hunk slows his rhythm and pulls out. It drips to the mattress and collects below him but he just can’t find it in himself to care.

Hunk picks him up and laps his tongue over the bite, soothing the skin with his saliva (and, he suspects, closing the wound). When he’s done, Keith slumps forward, resting his head against the chest he’s now unendingly bound to.

“Well,” he croaks.

“Well?” Hunk parrots.

“That fucking hurt.”

“I am sorry. I did warn you.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Hunk shifts around restlessly on the bed beneath him.

“How are you feeling?”

“I love you, Hunk.”

Hunk stops moving. Hunk stops breathing. Hunk just stops. Oh, right. Keith’s never said it out loud before. Well, if there was any damn time, it would most definitely be after his demon-lover-boyfriend-soulmate bit him on the shoulder to claim him like a fuckin’ dog or something. Hunk laughs into Keith’s hair.

“I love you too, Keith.”

The mark on Keith’s neck throbs. Hunk thumbs over it lightly.

“Perhaps don’t mention this when you speak with Peter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hunk's latin speech: As the stars dictate, I so choose. You belong to me and me to you. To be one and only one. I give you my power as you give your blood, so that we are bound.
> 
> AMEN!
> 
> <333


End file.
